


Blue

by Sir_Bedevere



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen, I ship Jorah/Happiness, No jokes, but so pre-jorah/dany it is barely there, unrequited really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Bedevere/pseuds/Sir_Bedevere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daenerys has a gift for Jorah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue

The markets of Qarth were as vibrant as those of Vaes Dothrak, with hundreds of sounds and smells and sights to attract even the laziest of attentions. There were spices she had never even heard of lined up in jars on neatly piled stalls, the songs of colourful birds she didn’t even know existed. Jugglers and mimes worked their way through the crowd, earning a coin here and a telling-off there. It was the most – alive – place she had ever seen.

She had come to escape the hospitality of Xaro for a few hours, weaving through the hordes of people with only Irri and Aggo for company. Daenerys was irritated with Xaro without even having seen him that morning; her hand maidens had convinced her she must wear the dress he had gifted her to the party that evening. The dress was beautiful, that was a truth, but she knew Xaro would take the opportunity and wear a matching colour, as if to suggest he had dominion over her. It would send a message to his Thirteen that Daenerys Stormborn was her to stay and she was his, but it also provided an important message for her, and she hated it. No man owned the Mother of Dragons, no matter how rich he was. If only there was some way to show him –

Her angry thoughts were interrupted by a flash of colour that she saw on a stall across the way. Hurrying over, she gathered up a large piece of material that the merchant had just cut from a bolt.

“How much for this?” she asked eagerly. The merchant raised an elegant eyebrow and smiled, his teeth perfect and white against his tanned skin.

“A gift, Khaleesi. Any friend of Xaro is a friend of mine.”

Irri took the material from the man carefully, eying it curiously as she followed Daenerys away from the stall and back in the direction of Xaro’s house.

“Khaleesi,” she said, “Why did you want this? It almost looks like – ”

“I know what it looks like,” Daenerys smiled, “And you shall see.”

Later, much later than it should have taken a highborn lady, she finished in her labours. She had sent the handmaidens away as she sewed, embarrassed that she had learned the skill so late and was little more than a beginner. They came back to help her dress for the party, curious as to what she had been doing. 

“You will know soon enough, sweet thing,” she told Irri, who had asked again whilst brushing her hair, “Before the party, you will know.”

At the appropriate moment, Ser Jorah arrived at the door. With his beard neatly trimmed and his hair freshly cut, he looked to be recovering well from their despair in the Red Waste.

“Khaleesi,” he dipped his head, “You look most beautiful. The dress-”

“A gift from Xaro,” she sighed, standing up, “So he can show all his friends the prize he has won.”

Jorah’s brow furrowed and he seemed to grow even larger in his sudden ire. Not for the first time Daenerys thanked the gods that she had such a powerful protector and friend on her side.

“Indeed,” he said, teeth gritted, “Khaleesi, if this makes you uncomfortable-”

“Calm yourself, Ser Jorah,” Daenerys smiled, opening a drawer set into the table and taking out a scrap of cloth, “I have come up with a solution that should please the both of us.”

She unfolded the cloth, which he could see was a thin length of a blue so similar to her dress that he was sure it could have been cut from the same. Standing on her toes, she wrapped the cloth around his neck in the Qarthian style, secured with a single bronze pin. As she stepped away to admire her handiwork, Jorah let out the breath he had been holding and reached up to touch his neck where her hands had touched him.

“Khaleesi, what is this?” 

“Is it too tight? I can fix it.”

“Forgive me, my princess, the fit is fine. Why am I wearing it?”

“To show Xaro that although he might think he can get the better of me, I have other friends too. Now everyone will know that you are mine.”

If she noticed the slight glaze to Ser Jorah’s eyes or noticed him rapidly swallowing at her words then Daenerys didn’t say anything. Instead she presented her arm to Ser Jorah, aglow with admiration for her own cleverness, and allowed him to walk her down the stairs and into the party. Xaro eyed them blankly as they descended, and Jorah unconsciously reached for his neck.

Daenerys gave his arm a single squeeze before disappearing into a crowd of well –wishers; when she glanced back, Jorah was standing waiting for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Grew entirely from the fact that in S02E05, Jorah is wearing that rather lovely scarf. That's it. 
> 
> I'm not even sorry.


End file.
